The Boss
by silverwrym
Summary: My first Fanfic...Another unsub has her eyes on our favorite genius. Why? Well her purpose remains to be seen. Rated M for language and character pain.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at a fanfiction entry and I am very nervous. I am not a grammar genius, so please be accepting of any mistakes. **** Here goes!**  


**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds but love reading and writing about its characters.**

It was creeping upon the witching hour when his victim finally started walking home from work. He must have decided to walk home tonight because the weather out was calm and cool. He was wearing a light coat with a purple scarf wrapped around his neck. He seemed to be lost in thought and not really paying attention to his surroundings.

Unbeknownst to him someone was lurking in the shadows up ahead behind an ancient looking minivan waiting to pull a tripwire. It was all planned out, and had been for a month now. It took that long to figure for the man to figure out his victim's patterns and fit a plan of action to them. He tried to do this the other night but his victim had gotten a ride home from his coworker.

He didn't have any problem with this young man; this was purely about the money. Not that the idea of what he was about to do didn't excite him, on the contrary he loved the power trip. He was practically in a constant state of arousal all day waiting for this moment to come. The anticipation of overpowering another individual and bending them to his will was the biggest turn on he could think of.

He pulled the tripwire taunt discreetly and waited a few moments for his victim to fall. It wasn't a long wait. His victim wiped out ungraciously on the sidewalk. Immediately, he jumped out from his hiding spot and got to work. He quickly restrained his victim's hands behind his back with zip ties. He then made sure to gag him by shoving a rag in his mouth and covering it in duct tape. The more he could muffle his victim's moans and groans the better. Finally, when he felt his victim was secure he looked around to make sure they were all alone. When he felt satisfied that there was no one about to witness the altercation, he started to try to move his victim to the waiting vehicle.

It took his victim this long to fully comprehend what was occurring. His victim finally decided to fight back and make try to make a noticeable scene. The victim's legs started kicking out and he made muffled noises through the gag. Luckily, he was ready for this; being an ex-marine meant that he was well built and capable of handling a difficult situation like this. But foregoing too much physical violence he chose to pull out his sidearm and place it in the small of his victim's back. Immediately, his victim tensed up his body and stopped his protestations.

"Either come quietly or die a slow and painful death," he said. "The boss is paying me either way. I am just paid to bring you in….dead or alive." This statement wasn't really true, but needed to be said to force his victim's cooperation. He was able to get his victim to stand up and start walking toward the van. He applied heavy pressure to the gun the whole time to keep a reminder in the victim's head about what would happen if he tried to break away and run. In the end, his victim cooperated completely until he saw the coffin-like box in the back of the van that was his intended means of transport. Upon seeing this, his victim flailed out his legs with renewed urgency and panic and desperately tried to shake the kidnapper off of him.

The only thing that the kidnapper could think of doing at that point was to use the only weapon he had at his disposal. With that thought in mind, he pulled the trigger and listened to the deafening silence that enveloped him and his victim.

**DR**DR**DR**DR**DR**DR**DR**DR**

**Reid's POV**

Finally, he was heading home from work. It was late but he decided to walk anyways. He needed the time to clear his head after everything that had happened on the last case. They were coming off of a particularly disturbing case of domestic violence turned murder, and Reid wanted to just forget about the whole thing. Of course, that wouldn't be possible with his memory, but one could dream. Luckily, it was Saturday tomorrow and the biggest plans that he had were going to the library and checking out some of the newest arrivals.

Looking up at the stars as he walked on this fine October evening he tried to spot some of the constellations that would be visible from Virginia at this time of year. He easily spotted Aquarius, and started looking for the Pegasus constellation when he felt a pull at his right ankle. Before he knew it he was falling face down onto the cement sidewalk in a tangle of his own arms and legs. He put his hands out in front of himself to help break the fall. Unfortunately, he felt a pain shoot through his right wrist and figured he must have sprained it.

"What happened," was all he could think before he felt someone crouched over his body tugging his arms behind him. He felt and heard the zip ties securing his hands behind his back. The next thing he knew a foul tasting rag was shoved in his mouth, which was immediately covered over with duct tape. His captor tried to get him up on his feet, but finally getting his wits about him he started to struggle against his assailant. It was then that he felt the hard press of a gun barrel at the small of his back.

"Either come quietly or die a slow and painful death," he assailant said. "The boss is paying me either way. I am just paid to bring you in….dead or alive."

He had no reason to not believe this statement, especially when the gun was pressed deeper into his back to prove the point. He decided to let this man walk him to the intended vehicle and hope that while they were walking another car would drive by and see the situation. Unfortunately, being so late no one was out and about and there was no other sign of life.

"What the hell is going on?" was all he could think. "What could someone possibly want with me?"

As they approached the van, his assailant kept the gun trained on his back while he opened the hatch in the back of the vehicle. It was then that he felt his blood turn cold. When the assailant opened the back of the van he revealed a coffin-like box with a few air holes in the lid.

"This isn't happening," was all he could think. "There is no way I am getting into that thing!"

His panic at the sight of the box renewed his desire to get away and he began to struggle again against his assailant. He started kicking his legs out hoping to catch his attacker in the shin or kneecap, and he tried to move his torso out of the way of the gun. It was mid-struggle when he heard the gun go off, and it took a few seconds to register that it had hit him. At the moment, the only thing that he registered in his head was the absolute silence that engulfed him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Criminal Minds universe.**

**Warning: Language  
**

Mabel jerked awake at the sound of a "crack" outside her apartment. "Carl, did you hear something?" she yelled.

"No Mabel, go back to sleep," he yelled back.

Mabel didn't believe him and decided to take a look out the window to see if there was anything wrong. She spotted a white van out on the street in front of the apartment complex. The back doors were open and there were two men acting suspicious outside of it. She didn't have her glasses on so she couldn't be sure what was going on, but it was definitely something fishy. "Carl, get in here. Something is going on outside."

Carl rushed into the room and joined Mabel at the window. "Now Mabel, just because there are some people out messing around in their van so late doesn't mean something is going on. Beside, you probably just heard the van backfire or something," Carl told her.

"No Carl. Look," she said after getting her glasses on finally. "The one guy threw something on the ground, and there is a bag lying next to the van too. And, where is the other guy now? I'm calling the police, something is going on."

"Fine, Mabel. Just don't be surprised if they don't take you seriously," was all Carl said as they both walked away from the window of apartment 5B.

* * *

After a few moments the silence was broken by the victim moaning in pain. In order to get his victim under control he made an executive decision to pull the trigger of the gun. Though, instead of shooting him in the spine he moved the gun to his right shoulder. His captive was obviously in pain, but being shot with a bullet had stopped his struggling. Taking advantage of the momentary calm he quickly picked up his captive and deposited him the coffin-like box.

"I was going to adjust your hands so you wouldn't have to lay on them the whole trip, but you're just going to have to live with it now," he said.

He then relieved his victim of his I.D., throwing it on the ground next to that stupid male purse, and took the gun and pocketed it to sell later. He then took out another zip tie and put it around his victim's ankles. This would lower the likelihood of getting kicked when the box was opened. Finally, he shut the box, latched it, and spun the combination lock.

After his victim was finally sealed up tight in the box he was finally able to look around to make sure no one was aroused by the gun shot. He notices a light on in the apartment across the way. "Was that on before?" he thought. "Eh, it doesn't matter anyways, were going to be outta here in a few seconds anyways." As he turned on the ignition he noticed a car turn the corner up ahead. He quickly put the van in drive and took off down the street going the opposite way.

Within a few seconds of getting into the car he heard his victim thumping on the box.

"Make all the noise you want, no one can hear you but me," he shouted to the kid in the box. "We're going to be on the road for a while, so you'll wear out soon anyways."

With that being said he turned up the radio real loud and steered the car toward the bosses place. He tried to zone out to the music and tried not to think about what would happen when the boss found out that he shot the kid. He, admittedly, was afraid of the boss. Hopefully, the boss will just focus on the fact that the victim was finally in there and let the injury go. "Glad I'm not the kid. I wouldn't want to go through what the boss has in store for him," he thought before losing himself in the music.

* * *

**Reid's POV**

After the silence faded he felt a burning pain raging through his shoulder. His captor must have, thankfully, shifted the gun's position in the tussle. He immediately felt the fight go out of him and let out a groan in pain. His captor easily picked him up and transferred him into the box.

"I was going to adjust your hands so you wouldn't have to lay on them the whole trip, but you're just going to have to live with it now," the captor said

He felt his captor taking his I.D. out of his pocket, and heard it hit the ground. His gun was then taken from its holster, and probably pocketed by his captor. He then felt his ankles getting bound together by the zip ties, something which really brought out his feelings of helplessness. "I can't even kick out now," was all he thought. "I am well and truly fucked."

So he now found himself lying on his back, completely tied up and gagged, looking up at a dark lid with holes in it. He heard his captor latching the box, and knew with a feeling of finality that there was no escape.

"Maybe someone heard the gun hot and called the cops," he thought. He started to bang on the lid with his knees and feet to make some noticeable noise. "Somebody, please be out there and hear me. Oh no…we're already moving."

"Make all the noise you want, no one can hear you but me," his captor shouted. "We're going to be on the road for a while, so you'll wear out soon anyways."

"What the hell is going on? Who could I have possibly pissed off?" was all he could think. There were no clues to help build a profile, and this guy wasn't the one who wanted him anyways, he was the hired help. "I guess I will just have to wait to meet the boss to get more information. What kind of name is that anyways?"

The next thing he knew there was a loud booming coming from the base and someone on the radio screaming lyrics to a supposed song. He tried to adjust his position in the box to relieve the pressure put on his hands, but flipping onto his side was not an option. His shoulder hurt too much and he couldn't take the jarring involved with trying to reposition. At least there was some light shining through the air holes and he wouldn't have to live through a panic attack due to the inherent absence of light. "Oh God, I hope someone finds my stuff on the ground and calls the FBI."

He decided to shut his eyes slowly trying to calm his brain and process all that had just occurred. "I wonder what's in store for me…"

* * *

"Car 23, there is a report of suspicious activity in front of the Whispering Willows apartment complex on Hanover Avenue. Are you in the vicinity to go investigate it?" the dispatcher asked.

"Copy that, we are on our way," replied Officer Hoffman. "Probably just some punk kids, ya wanna bet Lewis?"

When the officers got to the scene they went up to the apartment where the 911 call originated from and interviewed the couple inside. After that they went out to the location that Mabel Harris specified and took a look around. They found a satchel and a government issued ID. There was also some a gun casing on the ground with some blood splatter.

"You better get back on the horn Lewis and call in forensics. Something definitely went down here," Officer Hoffman said. "I'll try to get a hold of someone at the FBI about this ID and a possible identification for the owner of this bag. It's going to be a long night."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to everyone that decided to follow my story and give the newbie a chance. Special thanks to those of you that reviewed the story, you made me smile.  
**

****Please forgive any spelling or grammar errors. I am a science teacher, not an ELA teacher :)**  
**

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything to do with criminal minds**

* * *

It was close to one in the morning when Hotch's phone started going off. He had just fallen asleep a little less than an hour ago. It had been quite a while since he had gotten a good night sleep, and now someone had the nerve to interrupt it.

He came home right after the jet landed and checked on his son. Jack was already in bed by the time he had gotten home, but Hotch just stood in his bedroom doorway and marveled at what a miracle he had been blessed with. "I hope you never have to see the horrors I have witnessed in my life," Hotch whispered to his slumbering son. After the check in Hotch decided to take a shower to ease his nerves and relax him before bed. It felt so good standing under the hot water and letting it massage the tension out of his body. When the glorious shower ended, he pulled on some sweatpants and an old t-shirt and crawled into bed.

"This is ridiculous," Hotch muttered as he reached for his phone. He glanced at the caller I.D. and saw that it was an unknown number. "This better not be a prank call," thought an annoyed Hotch. He hit the answer button on the phone and said, "Agent Hotcher."

"Um…hello Agent Hotchner. This is Officer Hoffman with the local police department and I was given your number by….um….a woman named Strauss."

"Strauss? Okay…what can I do for you?" Hotch asked groggily, hoping that Strauss hadn't just gotten them involved in another case already.

"Well Sir, tonight while I was out on a call I discovered an I.D. belonging to one of your agents. Um, his name is Spencer Reid. Also, we found a satchel lying right next to the bag that has official looking papers in it, among other things," explained Officer Hoffman.

"What? Wait, let me get this straight…you were investigating a call and found Spencer Reid's I.D. and his bag?" reiterated Hotch.

"Yes, that's correct. But…"

"But what? Was there more?" Hotch asked.

"Actually, we found blood at the scene too. Now we collected it and we are sending it to get analyzed as we speak, and I will update you on the results as soon as they come back from the lab," said Officer Hoffman.

"Fine, but I am gathering my team and we are coming down there to help out with the investigation."

"Oh, that's not necessary Sir. We have it under control."

"With all due respect, we will be coming down there. One of my agents is in possible danger and we are going to investigate with or without your cooperation," Hotch said sternly.

"Understood, Sir. We'll see you when you get here," Officer Hoffman signed off.

"What the hell is going on?" Hotch muttered as he got out of bed to pull on some clothes. He dialed the phone to alert Morgan and had him call the rest of the team. Then he ran out the door and sped off in his car, wondering the whole time his team would be able to handle this situation again.

* * *

When Hotch arrived at the scene there were a few police cars, an ambulance, and a forensics unit all waiting to wrap up their investigation. The man he assumed to be Officer Hoffman was walking toward him and Hotch moved to meet him.

"Officer Hoffman, I presume," said Hotch as he stuck out his hand.

"At your service, Sir. You must be Agent Hotcher. Come; let me show you what we found. We haven't moved anything since we found out you and your team would be coming," explained Hoffman. "Over here was where the van was located, and according to the witnesses the hatch was open at this end. By the way, the Bruners are still awake and waiting in their apartment, 5B."

"Thank you, Officer," Hotch said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the others had arrived and were getting out of their cars. He walked over to meet them and fill them in on what he knew so far.

"Hotch, what is going on?" shouted Morgan as he met up with his supervisor. "Are we sure this whole thing has to do with Reid? What evidence do we have? I don't know if I can do this again. Why does trouble always seem to find the kid?"

"Morgan, I can't answer that right now. Gather everyone together and let's go over the game plan. Before we worry about why this happened, let's see if we can figure out how," responded Hotch.

Morgan went and gathered up the team, over by Hotch's car. Once they were all together and focused Hotch started explaining the situation.

"Alright team, I know that this is a scary situation, but we need to keep focused and objective. From what I can gather so far, it looks like Reid decided to walk home tonight. At this point in his journey he was somehow stopped and got into an altercation with the unsub. We need to interview the witnesses up in apartment 5B. JJ, you and Prentiss can take the lead on that; the rest of us will reanalyze the crime scene and see if we can find anything the police might have missed," explained Hotch. "Go people, time is not on our side right now."

* * *

"Alright, he must have been walking on this side of street, and at some point he was taken down after he passed the van. I am going to inspect the sidewalk and curb area to see if there was any debris left behind from their struggled," Morgan said to Hotch and Rossi.

"Sounds good, Rossi and I will check out the blood spatter and tire tracks," responded Hotch.

Morgan began to walk the sidewalk with this mag light flashlight trying to spot anything that was out of place. He paced back and forth a few times, walking in a grid like pattern to ensure no section was left out. "This is hopeless," he thought. "What could have possibly been left behind?" It was then that his light reflected off of something on the sidewalk. "What was that?" Morgan did a double take, where did it go. He stood their running the beam of his flashlight over the sidewalk with fervor. There it was again, just a little glint shining in reaction to the light. He walked over to the spot and ran his hand across the ground. His fingers found a transparent string, fishing wire, and began to pick it up. He was met with resistance within seconds because the other end of the string was attached to the light pole that was shining illuminating light on the dark street.

"Hotch, get over here! I think I found something," Morgan shouted as examined the wire. "Look here, I found a trip wire. I bet the unsub was waiting here behind his van and had the tripwire ready for when Reid walked by. This was premeditated, this guy knew Reid was going to come by here, but how could he have known he was going to walk home tonight?"

"He must have been following Reid for quite some time, at least long enough to figure out his patterns and habits. He may have even been staking out the airway waiting to see when we got home. Once he saw that Reid decided on walking home, he must have rushed ahead to set up the trap," Rossi stated.

"Okay, let's get this wire sent to the lab for analysis, I think I see blood stains on it in a few places," said Hotch. "Also, based on the amount of blood, Rossi and I think that whoever got shot will survive as long as they get patched up and take care to avoid infection. There wasn't enough blood splatter to assume that any major arteries or veins were hit."

"Alright, there isn't much more we can do here. Let's gather the ladies and head back to the office. We will compile our evidence there and start forming the profile as best as we can," Hotch decided.

* * *

It was almost time! Her "guest" was on his way here. She would finally be able to exact her revenge, just like her father taught her. He wouldn't even know what hit him. She walked out on the front porch of her isolated county house and stared down the dirt road, willing his transport to appear out of the impenetrable darkness. She could almost taste his fear and he wasn't even here yet. She had been plotting this for a year now, and finally the time was right. He would pay for what happened to her father with his life. Ahh, but she is jumping ahead in her plans. His death will come, but not until she is done playing with him.

"Oh Spencer, there are so many ways to test the resilience of the human body. Lucky for you, I am fascinated with all of them. Very soon now you will experience pain on a level you have never thought possible before. You will be wishing you were dead and that darkness is all you know. I have so much in store for you, and Daddy will be so proud," whispered the Boss.

All of a sudden two bright headlights cut through the pitch black night, signaling the final leg of the journey to the Boss's lair.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to all of you who have reviewed and are following my story! I hope you like the direction I am taking it in and I welcome any and all suggestions.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to do with Criminal Minds.**

It turned out to be a quiet three hour drive transporting his victim from Quantico to Suffolk Virginia. The Boss's house butted up against the Great Dismal Swamp National Wildlife Refuge and was difficult to find if you weren't familiar with the area. You had to drive down a long dirt road to get to the house, and keep on alert for any animals that may dart out in front of the car. The dirt road was in a terrible state, like most dirt roads, and contained many potentially car consuming pot holes. It was like navigating a mine field to get down the road. There were a few times that he swore the tires of the van were going to fly off. Finally, up ahead he saw the two story house with a wrap-around porch. The house was a cream color and looked very inviting. There was a soft glow coming from the upper story signifying that a lamp was left on so the owner would be walking around in the dark when they made their way up there to retire for the night. The porch had some wooden rocking chairs and a glider situated on it. As the van approached the house he could see the Boss sitting in one of the chairs waiting patiently for her package to be delivered.

He pulled the van up to the front of the house and parked it. He quickly got out and met the Boss up on the porch. He stood in front of her, he hadn't been asked to sit, and waited for her to make the first move.

"Do you have my package?" she asked.

"Yes, but there was a small problem with the contents," he started to explain.

The Boss cut him off and sternly questioned, "He's not dead is he?"

"No! No, not at all. There was a bit of a struggle getting him into the box. He flipped out and starting to put up quite a fight for such a scrawny kid. Anyways, the only option I could think of at that moment was to shoot him. I didn't hit anything to important, but he does have a wound in his shoulder and the bullet is probably still in there too. I know you didn't want him damaged, but if you would have let me knock him out this wouldn't be an issue now," he finished.

"Are you questioning my instructions? Who do you think you are? I pay you to do a job without questions. I have my reasons and they are none of your business. I thought a man in your line of work would know better than to express their opinion, especially when money is on the line. I have half a mind to reduce your payment now for being so insubordinate," the Boss expressed sternly.

"Yes, ma'am, I apologize. I forgot myself for a second."

"Whatever, just finish the job and be on your way," she stated.

"Where do you want the package? Do you want me to get him out or keep him in the box? If you want him in the box I am going to need a moving dolly or an extra set of hands."

"I want him in the box for now. Go check the shed behind the house, there should be a moving dolly in there. When we get the box loaded up I will show you where to take it. Well…what are you waiting for?"

I ran off to check the shed for the moving dolly, hoping all the while that this would be quick and I could get the fuck out of here. This woman is way too intense for me, and didn't want to spend any more time than necessary in her presence. After pushing through all the different pieces of equipment I found the moving dolly wedged in the corner of the dirty shed. I quickly wheeled it back to the van and opened the back doors.

The Boss sidled up next to me after I opened the doors. She held her finger to her lips to get me to stay quiet. We stood there for what seemed like hours, but it was only a minute, when we heard muffled noises coming out of the box. "Ahhh…she must like to hear him squirm. Poor kid, remind me again why I do this job…oh yeah, the money," I thought.

"Hello Spencer," she said. "You can stop the noise; no one is around to hear you. I am so excited that you're finally here. I have so many things planned for you, including your eventual death. We are going to meet face to face soon, but for now you have one more trip to get to your final destination," the Boss said with an eerie calmness.

I struggled with moving the box, while the kid may be scrawny, the box was anything but, and together they must weigh close to two hundred pounds. So I shifted the box back and forth to pull it to the edge of the van, and then turned it so the end that contained his feet was against the edge. "Ma'am, could you hold the dolly still so I can tip the box onto it?" I asked her. She shrugged her shoulders in a reply and stood behind the dolly holding it steady. I crawled all the way to the back of the box and started pushing it off the edge of the van. When the box was over half out of the van it started to tip, and I had it directly lined up with the dolly. I gave it a final push to get its momentum going and hoping that it would tip the rest of the way out on its own. I was right, but at the last second the Boss moved the dolly out of the way and watched with a smile on her face as the box crashed to the ground. I heard a loud muffled moan issue out of the box, and marveled at how much the Boss was enjoying the kid's pain. "That must have done a number on his shoulder, and he probably smashed his hands some more under his body weight," I thought.

"Wow, you have bad spatial reasoning if you missed the dolly that much," she teased me. "Get the box up and let's get moving."

I once again needed her assistance keeping the box steady, but this time she cooperated and held it long enough to stand the box up on it end. I walked around the box, took the handles of the moving dolly, and looked to her for guidance.

She led me around the house to a cleverly hidden basement hatch that was mixed in with a bunch of bushes and shrubs. The Boss undid the lock on the hatch handles and opened it up for me to see. There were a bunch of steps leading down into a dark dank cellar. I looked at her quizzically because the way down was paved in stairs. "How do you want me to get this dolly down those steps?" I asked.

"I don't care, however you can. When you get it down there, put it in the center and come back up for your payment. Oh, don't forget to lock the hatch up on your way back," she stated as she walked off to the front of the house.

"Perfect…sorry kid, I am going to have to slide you down there," I mumbled more to myself than the victim. After what I am sure was not a comfortable way to be transported down the stairs I pushed the box into the center of the cellar walked off without a look back.

After I was done I went to find the Boss on the front porch. She sat there rocking again with a small smile lighting her face. "It's done," was all I said. I stood there waiting for my payment.

"Yes, well here is your payment. I have subtracted a few hundred for your rudeness, but overall I am pleased. Hopefully we won't have to business again," she declared.

I took the payment and started to walk back to my van. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her make a sudden movement. "Shit, she's got a gun," I exclaimed in my head. I tore off without a look back. I heard the shots fire as I flung the driver's side door open. There was a ding, and a bullet hole appeared right next to my head. I jumped in and started the van. I peeled out of there as fast as I could. The back window of the van shattered but I didn't stop. "That crazy bitch tried to kill me," I vented. "God, I hope that woman will be too preoccupied with the package to come after me and finish the job. Maybe I will just lay low for awhile." I drove off down the dirt road at speeds up to seventy miles an hour trying to put as much distance between myself and the Boss. "Good luck kid," I said aloud with a little hint of sympathy entering my voice.

* * *

It felt like it had been hours since this whole thing started. His shoulder was burning in pain, and his hands were being crushed under his body weight. He tried quite a few times to adjust his position to relieve his hands but nothing worked. All of a sudden he felt the van turn and the texture of the road turned very bumpy. Ouch, all of the jostling down what he assumed was a dirt road was inflaming his injuries. The light that flashed through the holes in the coffin-like box disappeared and he felt a little panic set in at the utter darkness. He assumed that they must be close to their destination due to the reduction in speed of the van. Suddenly, the van must have nailed a major pot hole because he felt his body rebound off the lid of the box and he slammed back down on his hands. "Owwww," was all he could think and he let off a big moan. The jostling really upset his sprained wrist and bullet wound. And then he felt the van come to a stop.

He laid there and strained his ears to hear what was going on around him. He heard the driver's door open and close, and he anticipated the back doors opening. Nothing happened. Where did his captor go? Is the Boss that he talked about around? It seemed like he waited an eternity for the back doors to open. Again, there was silence. "I might as well make some sounds on the off chance someone out there can help me," he thought. So with a shred of hope in mind he started to yell out the best he could. Due to the gag, his yells sounded more like pitiful moans but some sound was better than nothing.

Next thing he knew he heard a voice.

"Hello Spencer," she said. "You can stop the noise; no one is around to hear you. I am so excited that you're finally here. I have so many things planned for you, including your eventual death. We are going to meet face to face soon, but for now you have one more trip to get to your final destination."

"What!?" he thought. "The Boss is a woman. Her voice seems strangely familiar." He wracked his brain to remember where he had heard her voice before. He knew the Boss must be someone that he had come into contact with through his job, but for the life of him he couldn't remember who. "I need to see her face," he agonized.

At this point, I can feel the box moving. Wait…they aren't going to let me out first? Seriously, I need to get out of here soon. I can hear my kidnapper asking the woman for assistance, but I didn't hear a reply. I felt the box start to tip off the van, and the next think I knew my shoulder was on fire and my hands felt like they were broken. "Fuck, they must have dropped me," he thought. He could hear her antagonize the kidnapper, and knew then that this was just the first of many times she would purposefully inflict pain on him.

The box was suddenly upended and we was on his feet standing upright…well the box was standing upright. He felt it getting wheeled around and stopping outside of another destination. I heard the man asking the Boss how he was supposed to get me down the steps, and I heard her respond that she didn't care one way or another. "Great, more pain coming my way…" I thought. The kidnapper sounded like he was talking to me and said that he was going to slide me down the stairs. It was a rough ride down, and didn't help my restrained hands on bit. I felt him push the box to an undisclosed location and then there was just silence.

I heard a loud slamming; I am guessing it's from the doors closing. If I thought that it was dark in this box before I was wrong. The black was like ink and never ending. At least in the van I could see glimmers of lights flashing by coming through the windows. It was unnervingly quiet and it made my imagination run rampant. I could feel a panic attack coming on, and I tried to slow my breathing down. It was pretty much useless. I started to feel nauseated and I couldn't breathe fast enough through my nose. "Keep it together!" I can't afford to throw up with a gag; I would end up choking to death. "Well, if I die now at least I wouldn't have to live through whatever the Boss has in store for me." I have got to stop thinking like that! I started thrusting my body up as best as I could to try to jostle the lid. It didn't work, but I had to try something. As tears tumbled down my face, I still couldn't get enough air, and I started to fade out of consciousness. "Guys, I hope you can find me before soon. I don't know how long I will be able to hold out this time."

* * *

He was finally here! I loved hearing his muffled screams through the box. I loved instilling fear into his body, and making him anticipate what was going to happen next. I am going to leave him down in the cellar for a little while in the darkness. Actually, he is going to be in the darkness the rest of his time here, just because I know how much he enjoys it. Finally, I am getting my revenge and avenging the wrongs that have been done to my family. This is going to be one of the most enjoyable things I have ever done.

I am a bit upset about the kidnapper getting away unscathed. But in the end, if he was running scared he is unlikely to run to the police. He will probably just worry about whether or not I am going to come and finish him off. We'll see whether or not I have time for it after my fun. Let him squirm and lay low for a while.

Going into the house I went into my father's old study and looked at his collectables. My father was a history fan, and to be specific medieval torture history. In one of the curio cabinets there was a strange metal device with three metal bars which were used for crushing a person's thumbs. I opened the cabinet and pulled out the devise. "Yes, after I get a few hours of sleep, I think it will be time to see how this thing actually works," I said aloud with a devious smile on my face.

* * *

"Hotch?" Garcia inquired as she walked into his office.

"Yes Garcia?"

"We got the results back from the blood at the scene and the tripwire. It's good news and bad news."

"Well go on…"

"The bad news is that blood on the ground was definitely Reid's and some of it was also found on the tripwire. It probably came from where his ankle made contact with the wire. On the other hand, the good news is that we identified another blood type on the wire. The blood must have come from the man responsible for taking Reid. He probably was holding the wire to tight and when Reid fell it must have cut him a little. Anyways, we have matched the blood to a man named Keifer Collins. I am on my way to go do research on him now," Garcia explained in what seemed like one big breath.

"Alright, at least it's something. I'll let everyone else know; you get to work on researching as fast as you can."

"You don't have to tell me twice! I will do whatever I can to bring my junior G-man home!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds...boo!  
**

**Warning: I will be getting into torture methods, and I like to use foul language sometimes. You have been warned.  
**

**Thanks to anyone who reviewed and to Marcallie for the heads up about the POV switch in the last chapter. **

* * *

I'm miserable.

I guess that's to be expected though when you have been crated in a coffin for hours on end. My hands are numb from laying on them the whole time. Not that I'm not thankful, I am sure they would hurt like hell if I had any feeling in them. My shoulder burns anytime I move, but I think the blood stopped flowing some time ago. My chest aches from the panic attack I had earlier, and the sleep I got from passing out was quite welcome. At this point I am lucky I haven't choked on the nasty gag in my mouth, I can feel it tickling the back of my throat and I keep trying to cough it back into place. My mouth is so dry, but strangely I am not hungry. I just am tired of being in the dark, literally and figuratively.

The sudden piercing light caused me to close my eyes really tight and in pain. It was a shock to be exposed to the light so abruptly, and I didn't even bother to try to get a good look at my captor. When did she get here? I didn't hear any noises indicating someone else was in the room. Was I even paying attention though? I need to get my head back in this game before I miss something important. I slowly open my eyes and take in the young woman whose visage is in my line of site.

"Hello Spencer," she said. "Do you remember me?" Then she ripped the tape off of my mouth, and I couldn't push the rag out fast enough.

"Lindsey. Lindsey Vaugh," I stuttered. "I don't understand."

"No, Spencer. My name is Katie now."

"What? What do you want with me?" I asked with a hitch in my voice.

I remember her. This was the girl that was abducted by Ryan Phillips along with her friend Katie about four years ago. Her friend Katie was brutally tortured and murdered, and Lindsey was held hostage in the bathroom at a high school. I was there when her father found her and was in the process of rescuing her from her captors. I tried to talk her father out of killing Ryan, while Lindsey encouraged him to do it. In the end, her father shot Ryan in the head without flinching, gathered up his daughter, and left me standing speechless in the bathroom. Since they were in the Witness Protection Program he got away with Ryan's murder and was relocated to an undisclosed destination. That whole experience scarred me majorly and really brought back my Dilaudid craving. Luckily, I was strong enough to not relapse, with some help of course.

So what's this? Why go through all this trouble to abduct me? Where is her father? What is the purpose? I wanted to ask all these questions, but I just laid there waiting for her to answer my initial question.

"Well Spencer, I don't really want to give away all my secrets yet. Be patient, all will be revealed in the eventually. For now, I am going to move you out of this box and get you ready for our first activity," she mischievously said.

Lindsey/Katie walked around behind me and grabbed me under my arms. She dragged me out of the box, and it scraped along my back through the process. I tried to hold in a moan but the pain and pressure radiating from my shoulder wound caused one to escape my throat. She just chuckled and continued to drag me across the concrete floor. After my whole body was out of the box I began to struggle. I started kicking out my bound feet, and twisting my body from side to side. I wasn't about to make this easy on her. She dropped me abruptly, and then crouched down next to me and pushed her thumb in my bullet wound.

"Ahhhhhh," I screamed out.

"Cut it out Spencer! This is going to happen whether you like it or not. Now, if you don't want me to add another bullet hole next to the one you already have, I suggest you quit struggling," she stated as she waved a gun that she pulled from her waistband in front of my face.

I just nodded and decided to cooperate for now. She got me all the way over to a corner and dropped me again. I labored to sit up by rocking back and forth to get some momentum. I could hear her playing around with something behind me and without warning felt cool metal wrapping around my neck. I jerked my head away as fast as I could, but it was too late. I heard a snap as the collar was fastened into place and locked. I pulled my head a bit more and heard the rattling of a chain that was attached to the collar. I turned my body as best as I could to look behind me. From what I can see the chain is about five feet long and fastened into the concrete wall.

Lindsey/Katie walked out from behind me and gave me a once over. "Spencer, I am going to undo your hands and feet now that you are nice and secure. But, I don't really trust you so before I do that I am going to give you a little something to make you cooperative." She held up a syringe with some liquid in it for me to see. I could feel panic setting in as I gave off a shudder upon seeing the syringe. "Don't worry Spencer, it's just going to numb you and allow me to maneuver you into a useful position for our first activity."

"Lindsey, you don't have to do that, I'll cooperate," I said trying to hide the terror in my voice. I don't care what's in the syringe, I don't want to be injected by another psychotic unsub!

"It's Katie! New life, new name…"

"Okay, Katie, I won't fight you. Just…please don't use that," I said as my eyes lingered on the syringe as I tried to placate her.

"Nah, I think once you find out my plans you won't want to cooperate and I want everything to go smoothly for our first round of torture. Oops, did I just say torture? Well, I guess the cats out of the bag now," she said mockingly.

With that, Katie walked back to me and regardless how much I tried to pull away she injected the drug into my arm. I felt a warmth creep throughout my body, and I slowly lost feeling everywhere. I tried to ask another question, but even my mouth wouldn't work. The only thing that I could do was wait while Katie undid all of my restraints.

She pulled two chairs over and toiled to lift me up into one of them. I saw her grab a bungee cord from a cardboard box on the other side of the room and bring it back over to me. "I am going to secure you to the chair to make sure you don't accidentally fall over," she explained.

Then, she pulled a small table over and set it in front of me. Finally, she retrieved a small devise that she set on the table in front of me. It had metal bars with teeth and on the top there was a large screw, that when turned would force one of the toothy metal bars down onto the other. "This devise is called thumbscrews. Being the genius that you are I am sure you know all about them and their origin," she said with a bit of contempt in her voice. Yes, I did know the history of thumbscrews and did not relish the idea of experiencing the pain they were about to inflict on my thumbs.

Katie took each of my arms and set them on the table. I felt so helpless and weak just sitting there and watching this happen. I mean, what choice did I have? I wanted to fit with every fiber of my being, but with toxin in my system that wasn't about to happen. She positioned each of my thumbs on the bottom metal plate and began to turn the screw.

* * *

After getting a few hours of sleep I woke up and decided it was time to go play with my captive. I chose to go down to the cellar via the entrance in the house. It allowed me to creep down quietly and sneak up on the box. I put in the combination to the lock, undid the latches, and flipped the hatch open as quickly as possible. I could see the shock on his face as he squeezed his eyes shut and scrunched up his nose.

"Hello Spencer, do you remember me?" I asked him as I ripped the tape off of his mouth.

"Lindsey, Lindsey Vaugh."

"No, Spencer. My name is Katie now."

"What? What do you want with me?" he asked with some hesitation in his voice.

Good, I am glad he is nervous. He should be after what he caused. I stood for a few seconds watching him gather his thoughts. "Well Spencer, I don't really want to give away all my secrets yet. Be patient, all will be revealed in the eventually. For now, I am going to move you out of this box and get you ready for our first activity."

I tried to cause him as much pain as possible as I began to drag him out of the box. My reward was a lovely moan of pain, and it made me giggle like a school girl. The more this so-called genius was in pain the better.

Once he was fully out of the box he tried to struggle, but I put a stop to that quickly. "Cut it out Spencer! This is going to happen whether you like it or not. Now, if you don't want me to add another bullet hole next to the one you already have, I suggest you quit struggling," I said as I showed him my gun. I could see him calculating his luck and a look of resignation overcame his face.

When I got him to the corner, I couldn't wait to introduce my first form of humiliation onto him. I grabbed the waiting metal collar and quickly snapped it around his neck. Let him feel like the dog he is and keep him chained up like a disobedient puppy. I saw the look of panic on his face as he jerked his head around and looked at the chain. If that doesn't get you excited, nothing will!

"Spencer, I am going to undo your hands and feet now that you are nice and secure. But, I don't really trust you so before I do that I am going to give you a little something to make you cooperative." I held up a syringe with some liquid in it for him to see. Again, the look of panic was priceless. Why wasn't I filming this for future enjoyment? Something I will have to rectify for activity two. "Don't worry Spencer, it's just going to numb you and allow me to maneuver you into a useful position for our first activity."

"Lindsey, you don't have to do that, I'll cooperate," he pleaded pathetically.

Pissed off I shouted, "It's Katie! New life, new name…" I had to take a deep breath to calm down. Didn't he get it when I told him the first time? For someone with so much smarts he was pretty thick.

"Okay, Katie, I won't fight you. Just…please don't use that," he pleaded again.

"Nah, I think once you find out my plans you won't want to cooperate and I want everything to go smoothly for our first round of torture. Oops, did I just say torture? Well, I guess the cats out of the bag now."

I walked over, injected him in the arm, and watched as his movements ceased. I undid his restraints because I needed access to his hands. I moved around some chairs and lifted him up into one and strapped him in securely. I positioned a table in between his chair and mine, and then went to get the thumbscrews. This was going to be so awesome! You know, when you are born in a life of violence devising ways to torment others was a natural high.

I put the devise in front of him on the table, and explained what it was. Of course, I couldn't pass up a chance to mock him a little and just stared into his eyes as he processed what was about to happen. It was amazing how much emotion can be imparted through those big brown eyes. I could see sadness, panic, humiliation, and calculation behind inside those eyes and it caused my adrenaline to surge. Wordlessly, I positioned his thumbs on the bottom metal plate, and staring into his warm brown eyes I began to turn the screw. Let the games begin!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with Criminal Minds.**

***I know some of you are wondering why Katie is mad at Reid. All will be revealed, but not in this chapter. Also, I know that in some of my segments the point of view shifts from first to third person, but that is how the story is flowing in my mind. Enjoy!  
**

* * *

Twist

Katie turned the screw once, and it dropped the top bar half an inch down.

"This is going to be bad. How am I going to handle this? I can't move, make a sound…hell, I can't even accidentally fall out of this chair," I thought.

Twist

The bar fell another half inch.

I can feel the teeth on the bottom bar pushing into my thumbs. It doesn't hurt yet, but I know it will soon. "Why did Katie choose me? I didn't do anything to her or her dad. She was the one who talked her father into killing Ryan. I just don't get this! Where the hell is her father? Doesn't he like this torture crap? Wouldn't he be upset that he was missing all this fun? I mean, he was a mob hit man before he became ensconced into the Witness Protection Program. If only I could get her talking, but that would require the ability to talk myself. How long this stuff takes to wear off?"

I quickly shift my eyes away from the thumbscrews to analyze Katie's face. Strangely, she is looking at me and not the torture devise. She peers at me like she is trying to solve a puzzle. She doesn't bat an eyelash and just keeps staring at me intently.

Twist

Her eyes light up. Can she see my panic? The top bar is only two to three twists away from making contact with the top of my thumbs.

Twist

A look of mirth crosses her face and is shown in a partial smile with sparkling eyes. "She is really enjoying this. She doesn't care about the actual damage she does. She wants to see me squirm, at least in my eyes.

Twist

The bar is now hovering over my thumbs and the next twist is going to bring the claws into contact with me.

Twist

"Ouch! Okay that wasn't too bad." The teeth were now present on both sides of my thumbs, but no skin has been broken. I could feel a pinching sensation emanating from my thumbs as they were now securely fastened in-between the two bars.

Twist

"Ahh…well now that one was painful! I can see that some blood is trickling down the sides of my thumbs onto the rickety table. The spikes are pushing into my thumbs and have torn up my skin. I know that the next twist is going to break the bones. "Just breathe," I try to coax myself. Katie is still silent and just watching me with that mischievous smile. I would do anything right now to be out of this situation and not have to experience the pain the next twist of the thumbscrews is going to bring. How demented were the people that invented this machine?

Twist

"AHHHHHHHH!" I scream in my mind. I can feel tears welling up in my eyes and falling. My thumbs are officially broken and they look mangled beyond repair. There is blood running off my thumbs in rivulets and pooling on the table under the thumbscrews. It looks like the portion of my thumbs that are captured in-between the bars has been flattened in the process. "How am I ever going to be able to regain proper movement in them again?"

Twist

The twist is in the wrong direction. Katie began to release my thumbs from the screws. Tears are still falling from my eyes and I am searching her face for a reason as to why she decided to stop. I wish I could jerk my hands off the table and cradle my hands in my lap, but my thumbs sit their uselessly on the bottom bar. God, I hate feeling so helpless and vulnerable.

Once Katie has fully retracted the bar, she takes my hands off the table. She doesn't do it gently though. She simply picks them up, moves them to their respective side and lets them fall. She couldn't care less that my battered thumbs slammed against the chair legs in the process and caused me more pain. "Why would she care though? Idiot, she wants you to be in pain. You're just lucky she didn't twist the screw one more time, or she might have severed your thumbs completely."

Next, Katie undid the strap that was keeping me secured to the chair. I watched as the bungee cord was thrown across the room and it landed in a heap in front of its former home. She then brusquely jerked the chair out from under me, causing my body to crash to the floor. Then I felt a tugging on the collar at my neck as she pulled me back toward the corner and propped me up against the wall. I watched as she sat out a bowl of food in a dog dish a few feet away from me, and there was some water in a dish too. "Seriously!? She can't really expect me to eat and drink from that!"

"Spencer, I am leaving some food out for when you finally regain control of your body. I figure since you have a collar on you were more dog like than human at this point, so I am sure you won't mind eating out of these old bowls. Anyways, I can't have you dying on me in a few days due to starvation or dehydration, so don't be too stubborn. Oh, and try not to spill your water; I won't be refilling it for a few days," Katie said with a sadistic smirk on her face. "I also want to give you a preview of what's coming up next for you." She held up a rough piece of rope with 4 knots the size of fists spread out across its surface. She took the rope and twisted it into a circular shape. "Have fun guessing what I am going to do with this!" Katie said as she walked away and up the stairs.

As I sat there waiting for the serum to wear off I couldn't help but ponder what she would do with the rope. Well, she could hang me with it, but that could kill me. She said she wanted me alive so it's probably not for hanging. She could whip me with it, which would hurt like a bitch. What else? Hmm, the thumbscrews are a torture devise that originated back in 16th century England; maybe she has an appreciation for ancient methods. Literary rumors have told how Mark Smeaton was tortured back then with a knotted rope, in order to get him to confess his adultery with Anne Boleyn. Oh God, I hope that isn't what she has in mind. I don't think my head could take the pressure.

* * *

I pulled my van into my driveway and turned it off with some relief. It had been a long ride home, and the sun was starting to come up. The van had gotten pretty cold due to the window being broken, but I turned up the heat really high and tried to ignore it. I dropped off the kid about 4 hours ago and didn't look back. At one point on the way home I had to stop and get some food and rest my eyes before I ended up crashing into a guard rail. I can't wait to crawl into my warm bed, and try to forget about that horrible woman and her gun.

I left the van sitting out in the driveway instead of pulling it into the garage out back. Nobody's going to notice it anyways so why go through the trouble of hiding it right now. After I have rested I will take it to my guys to fix up the window and the bullet hole.

As I walked into my ranch style house after unlocking the door, I never saw the lights of the police vehicles turning down my street.

* * *

Hotch and Morgan pulled up at Keifer Collins's house. They noticed the van sitting in the driveway and were quick to get out of the SUV to inspect it. Hotch decided to inspect the back of the van first, and right away noticed that one of the windows was shattered. From there he noticed small speckles of blood on the bumper. "Get forensics over here to get a sample of this," Hotch yelled out to whoever was listening.

"Hotch?" Morgan called out. "Come around here and look at this."

Hotch made his way to the front of the van and saw what was concerning Morgan. The front of the van had a bullet hole in it. "Alright, we need to get this analyzed to see if it matches the casings found at the abduction sight. I found some blood on the bumper, and I would lay odds on it matching Reid. I think this gives us enough probable cause to take this guy in for questioning and to search his house to see if Reid's here," Hotch said to Morgan.

"I'll get the SWAT team assembled and we will go in on your signal," Morgan said to Hotch as he ran away to get the teams ready.

All Agent Hotchner could do was nod his head in reply. His mind was on his missing agent. Hotch was hoping that Reid would be inside and this nightmare would be over, but his gut was telling him that it was just beginning.

* * *

I walked up the stairs after leaving my captive sitting on the ground bleeding from his crushed thumbs. I couldn't help but let out a little giggle of merriment at all the fun I was having. His eyes revealed so much throughout the whole process. I could see the panic flit through them with each twist of the screw, and the pain that flashed through them when his thumbs were being crushed was priceless. I am super excited about the humiliation he will feel when he realizes that he can't hold on to his pride forever and he ends up eating out of the dishes I set out. Sure, he might try to pick up the food with his hands, but good luck trying to drink the water without spilling it all.

This is just what I have been waiting for. I love the power I feel over him right now, and I am so happy that I can finally avenge my father's death. Maybe tomorrow I will let him in on my purpose. Maybe I will even let him ask me some questions before our next round of torture. I can tell he doesn't understand why I am doing this, but he will soon.

As I lay down on the couch for a brief nap, I can hear the words Spencer spoke to my dad in the high school bathroom all those years ago. "Your life has been about violence, and if you do this Lindsey's will be too." How right he was.


	7. Chapter 7

**Happy Thanksgiving all!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Criminal Minds franchise.  
**

**Warning: Language and a bit of mild torture.  
**

**I want to thank Kasey64 and everyone else for the reviews! They make me smile and I am happy that you are enjoying the story!  
**

**BTW I know that the reason I give for Katie wanting revenge on Reid is a bit of a strech, but hey its just a story and I needed a motivator.  
**

* * *

Wow. It's amazing to me that I am now sitting in this small room with a one way mirror waiting to be questioned by the FBI. What did I fuck up so bad that led to me getting caught? Could it have been that apartment with the light on? Perhaps I shouldn't have dropped the kid's stuff outside of the van. I don't know, but now I gotta decide whether or not I am going to give them info about the Boss. Let's see what they offer me and go from there.

Suddenly the door swings open and in walks a tall man with short dark hair. His eyes scream serious and I know that this is not the guy to mess with, but it could be fun to try to get a rise out of him. I mean, I'm screwed anyways…might as well have some fun before I give them what they want. Behind him walks in a tall dark haired woman, she looks like a girl who can handle herself in any situation. They both take a seat across the table from me, and shuffle through papers to make me think they are contemplating how to start the questioning.

The man clears his throat and finally begins after a few moments of silence. "I am Agent Aaron Hotchner and this is Agent Prentiss and we are here to question you, Kiefer Collins, about the abduction of Dr. Spencer Reid."

"What makes you think I had anything to do with it?" I asked. I want to see what type of evidence they have against me before I start giving anything away.

"Well, Keifer we have quite a bit of evidence that points to you as the abductor. You do know what type of sentence you're looking at for the abduction of a Federal Agent and his possible murder?" stated Agent Prentiss.

"You say you have evidence, but I see no proof of it. How do I know that you're not trying to trick me into incriminating myself? Right now you are just playing games with me."

"Well, for starters when we mentioned the name of the victim you didn't even flinch or deny knowledge of who he is. You are well aware of whom Spencer Reid is, and you are just biding your time before you let go of any information," said Agent Hotchner.

"Is that all you got? The fact that I didn't ask you to clarify who the victim is? That's ridiculous. I hope you have something better or else you should just let me go home now," I said tauntingly.

"Alright Kiefer, we have your van in custody and being analyzed by our forensics unit. The blood splatter on your van will more than likely match that of Dr. Reid. Additionally, we have your and Dr. Reid's blood on a piece of fishing wire that we believed you used to trip him. Did we miss anything?" Agent Hotchner revealed.

"Well, why didn't you say so to begin with? Ya'll have done your homework I see. Hmmm, now where do we go from here? I surely don't want to wreck the fun that Dr. Reid is having right now. I think I will just keep my mouth closed and let ya'll do your job and figure out where he is without my help," I said with a smirk. If they wanted me to cooperate they would need to give me some sort of deal on my eventual sentence.

"How about you tell us where you have hidden Dr. Reid and why?" Agent Prentiss asked.

"Nope, I don't think I will. He is where he needs to be, and I don't see what I would get out of helping ya'll out anyways."

Agent Hotchner slammed his hands down on the desk in an attempt at intimidation, but it didn't scare me. "You need to start talking or else your sentence is going to be much larger than you anticipated," he said.

"Look, that's all well and good, but I need to get something out of this deal. Especially since I am just the hired help and not the one who devised this whole thing up in the first place," I replied. There, that will get them thinking. Now they might be willing to start negotiating with me.

"Wait a minute. What do you mean that you're just the hired help?" Agent Prentiss asked.

"Just what I said, but I am not saying anything else until we cut a deal."

At that both agents stood up and walked out the door. I hope they get back soon, or else their fellow agent might be damaged beyond repair by the time they get to him. Not that it matters to me though, I'll be fine after we get this deal in writing, dead agent or no dead agent. A smile starts to form on my lips. While this might not be the ideal situation to be in, at least I am making it work to my advantage. Also, I don't have a problem hanging the Boss out to dry after she tried to kill me anyways. Let her deal with the FEDS. I shift in my seat with a sigh. Too bad I can't be there when they raid her house. I would kinda like to see how it all goes down.

The door to the interrogation room started to open. "Here we go," is all I thought.

* * *

Did my pinky finger just move? I think it did, but I can't turn my head to see it. Wait a minute, I can move my head. The serum must be wearing off finally!

As I sit here in the basement of Lindsey, oh wait, Katie's cabin I am just trying to concentrate on regaining control of my body. My thumbs are throbbing beyond belief, and I can't wait to be able to at least cradle them in my lap. Perhaps I can tear off some pieces of my clothes to use as makeshift bandages. I also want the chance to be able to try to yank this stupid chain out of the wall, even though I know the action will probably be futile.

Slowly, I can sense the feeling come back to my body. Eventually I am able to move everything and shift my position a bit to try to get more comfortable. Man, you don't really realize how much you need your thumbs until they are smashed beyond recognition. I couldn't even get a good grip on the chain because that required my thumbs to help hold it steady in my hand. Maybe that's why she went after my thumbs first, this way I wouldn't be able to manipulate anything around me successfully.

I am starting to get thirsty and hungry, but I'll be damned if I am going to eat or drink out of bowls like a dog. Anyways, she set them right on the edge of my reach and it would require me to stretch out and choke myself in order to reach them. She really is intent upon humiliating me even if there is no one around to witness it. As I think about that, I try to put some fingers in between the collar and my neck to loosen it up, but she has it on there too tight. There is nothing more animalistic than being chained to something.

Speak of the devil, I can hear here coming down the stairs again. She really hasn't been gone that long, I think. Maybe this time I can get a few questions in before the pain. She walks into the room and observes me for a few minutes. I just let her look. Her eyes flit over my body, resting on my thumbs for a few seconds, and then she looks over to the food. She then steps closer and I can see the knotted rope in her hand.

"Hello Spencer, how are you feeling? I can see that the drugs have worn off," she said.

"Katie…where is your father?" I didn't waste time on answering her question, she doesn't care anyways. I might as well go for it now and see if I can get her talking.

"Oh Spencer, you really are a curious kid. Alright, I will humor you just this once, but there will be a price to pay for every question of yours that I answer," she explained. She held up the knotted rope and a lead pipe for me to see and pulled the chair back into my area.

I just nod my head. I can take the pain, what I want is to know what this is all about.

"Get up in the chair Spencer," she demanded.

I hesitated. Why should I help her?

"Do it now or I will use the drugs again," she stated.

I scrambled up into the chair, anything to avoid more drugs. She strapped me into the chair again, and I resigned myself to my fate. She took the knotted rope and encircled my head with it. I could feel two of the knots on either side of my forehead, and the rest were spread out around my cranium. She inserted the lead pipe in-between the rope and the back of my head. I was sure now of what her intention with this rope was, and I was not looking forward to the agony that was in my future.

"Alright, now that you are all set, ask your question again to make it official."

"Wh-where is your father?" I asked again with a little hitch in my voice from the anticipation of how the rope is going to feel.

Once I finished my question Katie took the lead pipe and twisted it like you would a steering wheel. What this did was tighten the rope around my head and forced the knots to put pressure on my skull. This first turn wasn't too bad, but I can only imagine how the next few are going to feel.

"Okay, well…long story short, my dad killed himself a few months ago. We were still in the witness protection program and living in a really nice community. But, my dad hasn't been the same since that day Ryan died," Katie explained.

"I'm sorry to hear that. What type of changes did your dad undergo?" I asked.

Katie turned the pipe again and this time the pain was agonizing! It felt like someone had my head in a vice and essentially she did. The knots were really digging into my skin now, and I was sure the next turn would bring about the blood.

"Well, dad got really depressed. He started dwelling on the words that you said to him about my life being filled with violence because of him. He eventually told me that he was upset with me because I goaded him into killing Ryan in front of me. See, dad didn't ever have a problem killing, but he never did it in front of me before. He told me that he was worried that you were right and that I would think that violence was the only way to solve my problems," she explained agitatedly.

I could tell that she was getting riled up reliving the conversation with her dad. Her voice was getting rougher and her I could feel her hands shaking as they held the lead pipe. I decided not to let my chance to get more answers pass me by, so I made the decision to ask another question. "So, you're mad at me because I tried to talk your dad out of killing Ryan? What else was I supposed to do, stand there and watch without trying to save the man's life?"

Katie twisted the pipe two times, one for each question. This time I let out a whimper because the knots finally broke through my skin and caused blood to seep down the sides of my head. It's amazing that such a simple thing could cause so much pain. I tried to shake my head but Katie had such a good grip on the pipe it kept my head in place. Could this actually break my skull if pulled tight enough?

"Mad at you? Mad doesn't come close to describing my feelings for you! Your words caused the only family I had left in this world kill himself! He couldn't handle the fact that he could be responsible for ruining my life. I never got to tell him it wouldn't have mattered anyways. I was already like him, I had already learned from him. I had already decided to revolve my life around violence based on his example. Violence brings you respect, money, fear and admiration from the people around you. But he never gave me the chance to tell him. It was all your fault! If you would have just kept your mouth shut, or showed up before he did we wouldn't be in this situation now. I thought you were a genius, couldn't you have figured out where I was faster? If you would have beaten my dad to the high school he would still be here right now!"

"But Ryan would still be alive! You didn't want that! You would have walked out of there pissed because Ryan got to live when Lindsey didn't. Admit it, deep down inside you're glad that I didn't show up early because Ryan got what you think he deserved." I knew that I was going to piss her off with this comment, but I couldn't listen to her shift the blame off onto me. I did my job and tried to save Ryan. It didn't matter whether or not I thought Ryan was a scumbag, he deserved to live. I said what I did in order to get her father to back down. "Did you ever stop to think about what this whole thing did to me?" I shouted at her.

She twisted the lead pipe again. The knots ground into my head and I let out a yowl in pain. I am seeing stars in front of me, and I can feel the blood pouring out of my wounds. It felt like my head was on fire and the source of those flames was the wrist sized knots. I started to feel light headed and knew the next time she twisted the pipe I would probably black out.

"You think I give a shit about how you felt? It's your job to find and stop killers, but you couldn't do it fast enough. My father did your job better than you. I am just providing the consequences for your inability to do your job. It just turns out that punishing you also gives me closure. Someone has to teach you the repercussions of doing a piss-poor job."

"Enough," I moaned. "You wouldn't have been satisfied with either outcome. You are just blaming me because your dad couldn't handle the repercussions of the decision that you urged him to make. In the end, it's you that can't deal with the consequences of your actions and you are looking for a scape goat. I'll ask you the same thing I asked him, when's this going to end?"

She twisted the rope again and this time I knew that I wouldn't be able to tolerate the pain. As I slowly blacked out I heard her say, "Tomorrow."

* * *

After he passed out I took him out of the chair and dumped him on the floor. I shortened the length on the chain that attached him to the wall and walked upstairs. This wasn't how I planned this round of torture to occur, but it worked out in the end. I couldn't believe that he actually thought I would care about how Ryan's death affected him! He was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, and what really mattered to me was avenging my father's death. I would teach him the error of his ways. I would teach him what happens when you don't do your job up to par, and I will make sure he never forgets my lessons.

I go back into my father's study to look for inspiration. I need something a little more painful next time. I want him to feel helpless and vulnerable. I need to start upping the humiliation too. I think I enjoy humiliation more than physical pain because it messes with the mind more. One can easily heal from physical damages, but mental damages? Now that's a whole different story. Well, I have awhile to think about it. Hmmm, what's this? Oh yes, dad used to call this "The Cat's Claw."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is related to Criminal Minds**

**Hi All! A few things to know before you read. I incorrectly called the next torture device a "Cat's Claw," but historically it is called a "Cat's Paw." Next, I just made up all the stuff that has to do with Keifer negotiating a shorter sentence. I really don't know anything about all that legal stuff. I just wanted the team to waste more time before they find our favorite genius. Finally, it might be a few weeks before the next update because I have a final paper and presentation due for my masters class. Can't wait for Christmas break because I will be able to write without any other obligations.  
**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter!  
**

* * *

I wake up and the first thing I can think of is this unquenchable thirst that is causing my mouth to feel like it is stuffed with cotton. How long have I been without water? I don't even know, because the last time I would have had anything to drink would have been on the ride home. It's been at least twenty-four hours hasn't it? The fact that the basement is windowless does not help my sense of time. She really is trying to force me to use the bowls she laid out, but I am still too stubborn to give her the satisfaction, so I don't even glance in their direction. I have to maintain some of my pride throughout this whole thing, right? So instead I decide to take an inventory of my wounds and try to figure out exactly what type of trauma my body is facing.

Well, for starters there is the gunshot wound in my shoulder, which is at this point just throbbing up a storm. I can handle that for now as long as I don't jostle it or try to move my arm too much. My wrist was sprained during the kidnapping and the restraints I had to endure on my journey here did not help the sprain. I can definitely live with this, and the pain is even tolerable enough to allow me to move my hand around as needed. From there we get into the status of my thumbs. These are still in excruciating pain, and are severely swollen with some puss weeping out of the open wounds. It didn't even cross Katie's mind to clean up my wounds, and now I am sure that my flattened thumbs are becoming infected. Finally, there are the five open lesions surrounding my cranium. The knots from the rope dug into my head so deep that it feels like there are tiny valleys were they used to be located. There is blood running down my head and drying up in a crusty mess. If anyone finds me in this condition they might mistake me for some sort of zombie come back from the dead.

I shift my body to find a better position against the wall and I realize that I forgot to take two more injuries into consideration. The stupid metal collar around my neck is entirely too tight, and I can feel it bruising and chaffing my skin. The other wound isn't so much a physical one, but I know that I am going to need some psychological help when this is all over, and if you know me I couldn't be more overjoyed at the thought of seeing a shrink. I snort at this thought and roll my eyes. I know that getting help won't even be an option; the Bureau will make me meet with a doctor until I can get his or her approval to go back on the job. Oh the joys of being me! I am pretty sure that I am destined to be the world's punching bag.

Speaking of punching bag, I can't believe Katie's reasoning as to how her father's death is my fault. She clearly couldn't handle the fact that he felt so guilty about killing that man in front of her. She knows deep down that it is her fault, but mentally she isn't ready to accept the blame. She had to push the blame off on the only other person present in the room when the murder occurred, and of course it had to be me. I am going to have to keep talking to her and maybe at some point I will be able to snap her out of this delusion.

Going back to her father, he sure did a number on Katie in the end. I mean, really, who had a worse father, her or me? It's kind of a toss-up if you think about it. My father walked out on me and my mom when I was young, leaving me to take care of a paranoid schizophrenic. He left me to make all the decisions a parent should be making and the responsibilities of the household. I practically raised myself and missed out on a normal childhood. Even though, I was never destined for a normal childhood since I skipped ahead so many grades in school. Nevertheless, I could have enjoyed some of the family entertainments and vacations that came with being a child. It was never trips to amusement parks, circuses, or playhouses for me. I was always enjoying lectures, literary classic readings or reenactments, and science centers. If you think about it, if dad wouldn't have left I may not be who I am today, a determined, highly intelligent, detailed oriented, sometimes reckless agent at the FBI. My subconscious search for a father figure, which I found in Gideon, wouldn't have been one of the motivating factors to lead me to join the BAU.

On the other hand, Katie's father became almost possessive of her after her mother died. According to her neighbors, Mr. Vaugh started treating Katie more like a wife than a daughter. He too messed up her childhood by being the cause of his family being placed into the Witness Protection Program. Additionally, what kid wouldn't be messed up because their dad is a hit man for a living? To know that you dad's job is to go out and kill people for money, no questions asked, can really skew the child's sense of right and wrong.

A sharp pain shoots through my thumb as I move my hand up to push some stray hair behind my ears. I really hope that I will regain use of my thumbs if I do end up getting out of this alive. Getting out of here alive seems more and more hopeless. I wonder if anyone has even realized I am missing. Did anyone find my I.D. and gun? How would they even have any idea where I am? It wasn't like there was alot of evidence left at the scene. I know some of my blood will be there, but other than that there won't be much to go on. Though, if no one even knows that I am missing it won't matter anyways. I might be on my own for coming up with an escape plan, and if she keeps torturing me than I won't be in any shape to try to get free.

Again, I shift my position because there just doesn't seem to be a comfortable one on the concrete floor. I am getting a bit cold too, but thank goodness that I still have my clothes intact. While I am shifting my eyes finally wander over to where Katie placed the food earlier. Imagine my surprise when I saw a water bottle sitting there and not a pet dish. Even more, there was an apple sitting next to the water bottle. My thoughts of thirst and hunger come back at me full force. I begin to crawl in the direction of the water bottle, trying to ignore all of the pain that my movements bring with them. Almost immediately I was met with resistance at my neck. The stupid chain ran out and stopped me from crawling any further forward. I begin to wonder if she shortened the chain. She planned this, obviously, intending for me to struggle and perhaps even give up on getting the nourishment I need. I wasn't ready to give up yet. I sat down and stretched out my right leg as far as I could to try to tip the bottle in my direction. My big toe just brushed the bottle, so I scooted my butt forward as much as I could to further elongate my reach. In doing so, my foot came into contact with the apple and ended up pushing it a foot further back than it was. Thirst comes first, and I will have to put the apple out of my mind now. I was finally able to maneuver my foot to kick the bottle, and I couldn't hide a quick squeal of joy when the bottle tipped and rolled in my direction.

I didn't even stop to think about why she replaced the food dishes; instead I tore open the bottle and started downing the refreshing water. I tried to pace myself in order to keep it all down, but I was just so thirsty that I finished the bottle off in less than a minute. My stomach started to ache a bit, but I felt that I was going to be able to hold back the nausea. Within a few minutes my head started to get woozy and hazy. I tried scooting myself back to the wall to get some support for my body, and alleviate the pain that came from trying to hydrate myself. By the time I got back to the wall I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. My last thought was whether or not the bottle had been sealed when I opened it.

* * *

It's coming close to the end of Spencer's first day of torture, and I couldn't be happier with how it's going. I have already done irreparable damage on his thumbs, and possibly scared his head. I even got him to pass out from the pain the second time. This whole thing is going better than expected. I bet he was shocked to discover the drugged water sitting in place of the dish of water. Knowing him he must have figured out how to get to it by now. I really wanted to get him prepared for the next round of pain, but I wanted to prep him while he was passed out. It's going to be so much fun to watch him come to all confused. So, I am now making my way back down to the basement with the hope that he is in a medicinal induced sleep.

As I get to the bottom of the stairs I take in the sight before me. I see the apple has been moved back from its original spot, and there is an empty water bottle lying next to my captive. He is slumped against the wall looking much smaller and pathetic than before. He is filthy too, but that really is none of my concern. I love seeing the blood drip down his face and the site of his crushed thumbs really gets me excited.

Once I get to Spencer's side I check his pulse, just to be on the safe side, to make sure I didn't overdose him with the sleeping pills in the water. He has a decent pulse going, and I decide it's safe for me to carry on with my plans. The first thing I do is strip him of his shirt and pants, leaving him only in his boxers, which are decorated with red and green vertical stripes, and mismatched socks. I undo the collar, lace my hands through his arms and start to drag him to the center of the room where the drain is located. Once there, I drop him down, lay him out flat on his stomach and maneuver his hands above his head. I bind his wrists together with rope and run the line to a ring in the wall. I pull the rope taught and fasten it securely to the ring. I then do the same thing to his ankles, and attach that rope to a ring in the opposite wall. So now, Spencer is lying on the cold concrete stretched out between two walls and completely immobile. I run upstairs to grab a folding chair and a book to read while I wait for my victim to wake up. I cannot miss the look on his face when he realizes the predicament he is in, and the panic that will ensue when he sees the Cat's Claw in my hand. This will be the perfect way to end his first day in Hell.

* * *

"I'm hungry," I say to the agents as they walk into the room. It has been hours since we first started to negotiate a deal. They have been in and out of the room numerous times and this has started getting really old. I can tell that the kid's teammates want to make a deal as fast as they can, but someone higher up must be obstructing the process. Maybe they think a deal is too good for a lousy kidnapper like me, but hey, I need to get something out of this situation.

"Well Mr. Collins, I might be able to have someone bring you something in, but we have to finalize this deal before that happens," said Agent Hotchner.

"Look agent, I am just waiting on ya'll to give me some decent terms. I get that I have jail time in my future, but a reduced sentence is not too much to ask for, especially when I am helping you save the life of your teammate. Anyways, the longer ya'll take the less likely he will be alive by the time you get there," I respond my patented smirk on my face. I got them over a barrel; they are going to have to give me what I want.

Agent Hotchner sighs and nods his head. "Alright, here are the terms. You tell us exactly who we are dealing with, how to find them, everything you know about the reason for this kidnapping, a layout of the building our agent is being held in, and what we should expect when we get there, and we will knock a few years off of your sentence."

"Come now Agent Hotchner, you need to be more specific than that," I goad him.

"Alright, we will knock 5-7 years off depending on the sentence you receive."

"I want to see this in writing, and I want some food brought in when you come back," I demand. I guess I will have to make do with what they offer, at least it's something. "When everything looks good on paper and my belly is full that's when I will start answering your questions."

"Deal," Agent Hotchner said stoically before walking out on me again.

* * *

I don't remember it being this cold the last time I woke up. I also don't remember laying my head against the wall, because my cheek could feel the cool touch of the concrete. My eyes feel sticky and glued shut, but I can tell it's the side effect of some drug. I vaguely remember drinking the water out of the bottle before blacking out. I should have been more careful and not trusted the water to be safe. I let out a moan and try to move my hand to rub my eyes, but I realize that something is wrong. My wrists are being held together by some sort of scratchy rope that is tightly wound around them.

I slowly begin to realize that I am not in the same position that I was when I passed out. I can tell that I am lying on the ground, and that my body feels like an ice cube. My bound hands are stretched above my head and I am unable to move them an inch. They must be secured to something that is keeping them in place. I want to sit up off this floor so I try to move my feet to push myself up off the ground. I quickly gather that my ankles are also bound by the same scratchy rope and fastened to an object of their own. So here I am stretched out and completely immobile on a floor that feels like it belongs to a walk in cooler to a restaurant.

Why am I so cold? I open my eyes and try to shift my head to look at my body. All I see is my naked skin and my stripped boxers. She took my clothes! I feel my breathing pick up as I go into a slight panic attack. The feeling of vulnerability couldn't have been more suffocating than it is now. I don't let anyone see me like this, not even when I have to share a room with someone on the team. I always make sure to change clothes in private, and not let anyone see my slightly emaciated body. This must be another step in her battle to break me down mentally. I try to slow my breathing and chant over and over to myself that I won't let her see that this bothers me.

"I see you have finally woken up Spencer. I thought I was going to have to sit here all night," a voice said off to the right side of my body. I slowly turn my head in the other direction, being careful not to scrape my nose against the ground. There she is, sitting in a chair with her legs crossed. She has a self-satisfied smile on her face as she looks me over and takes in the expression on my face.

She was waiting for me to wake up. She knew how I would react, and I played right into her hands. Of course, who wouldn't panic if they woke up to find themselves in the same predicament? But I should have known better and prepared myself better mentally before opening my eyes.

"Wha-," I start to ask, but she quickly cuts me off.

"Shhh, now Spencer. We talked last time. It's late and I don't feel like conversing now. I just want to play for a few minutes before I snuggle into the warm covers of my bed," she taunted. As she was speaking she got up and picked up a roll of duct tape that was on the ground next to her chair. She ripped off strip of the tape and walked over and applied it to my mouth. "This will help keep you quiet," she said.

I just looked at her with as much venom in my eyes as I could manage, but all that did was make her chuckle.

"Alright, you ready Spencer?" she asked. "Feast your eyes on this!"

She held up a 12 inch strip of metal that had four 5 inch claws protruding from it. The claws were extremely sharp and menacing. I finally understood the reason why she had me splayed out across the floor with my back exposed. I cringed as she raised her hand and brought it down onto my back for the first swipe of the claw-like instrument.

* * *

**Any suggestions for the next devise to use?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi Everyone! Good News! I got an A on my final project/presentation, and an overall A in my class. Sorry I have been gone for so long, but that course was kicking my butt!**

**Just a reminder that this is my first fanfiction so please be gentle when reviewing. I appreciate feedback, but lets try to make it constructive. I am still struggling with keeping the point of view the same throughout the story, and also the tense. Stay with me though because I am ever evolving my writing. Please forgive any mistakes you may find!  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the best show on television  
**

* * *

I feel the claws rip down my back in one quick swipe. The pain is excruciating! The devise made it possible for her to make five jagged cuts all at once, and she raked it across my back at least five times. Each time she switched up the placement of her swing in order to access more of parts of my back. After she tired of turning my back into shreds of skins she used the instrument on my legs. I felt the five metal claws scratch down my right leg and then left. There is no way that I am going to be able to lay on my back for quite awhile.

I can feel the blood welling out of my body. My stomach feels slippery as the plasma starts to pool around it fighting to get down the drain. There are uncontrollable tears pouring from my eyes because the pain is so severe. I don't want to show her any weakness, but sometimes you don't have control over those types of involuntary reactions. I know that if possible my screams could have been louder than ever before, but as it was, the only sounds released out of my body were muffled.

When will this be over? There needs to be an end to this torture. I am so ready to be done with the pain and suffering. Have we entering the second day of this madness? Am I really ready to give up? Katie is really good at this stuff if I am already entertaining ideas of letting myself go. No! I have to stop thinking like that. My friends are out there, and they have to be looking for me by now. I need to keep my spirits in check because once the mind goes the body won't be far behind.

When Katie is finished I can hear her step back to admire her work. Are those flashes of light? Did she actually take pictures of the monstrosity that was my back? "Hey Spencer, do you want to see what it looks like?" she asked.

Of course she wasn't expecting an answer due to the fact that I still couldn't speak. I could hear her walking around to my viewpoint, and then she bent down and shoved a digital camera screen in front of my face. What I see on the screen is nothing less than horrifying. It's one thing to feel the pain and blood, but a whole other thing to see it in such close up clarity. My back is unrecognizable. The claw marks are crisscrossed over every piece of skin visible and blood is pooling out of the wounds. She shows me a full body shot and I am able to see that my legs are in the same shape as my back. I know I need stitches immediately to stem the blood flow and protect my body from infection, but that isn't going to happen.

Katie and her camera left my field of vision, and I feel my arms drop down as the rope is released from whatever it was attached to. I am too weak and hurt to care at this point, and I don't even try to sit up or reposition myself. She goes around next and frees my legs from their restraints. My cheek is smashed against the concrete floor and I rapidly breathe through my nose. I suddenly feel her grab my right wrist and start to pull. She is yanking me back into my corner. Katie is inconsiderate of my pain, of course, as she pulls me along.

Once she gets me to the corner she lets go of my wrist. I am still unable to rouse myself up, so I just lay there. I can hear the clanking of the chains as Katie prepares them for me again. Really? She thinks that I have enough energy to even contemplate escaping? Regardless, I feel the cool metal collar surround my neck again. She then tries to prop me against the wall, but I moan in so much pain she leaves me to rot on the floor. Katie then ruthlessly rips the tape off of my mouth. I let out a sob. She smiles at the sound.

"Well Spencer, that was fun! I am going to let you rest for a bit, and then I have a few more surprises in store for you!" Katie said in such a bubbly way. One would have thought we were best friends enjoying a bottle of wine the way she was talking to me.

As she walks away I manage to summon the strength to lift my head and ask her a question, "Katie, is it tomorrow?"

She stops and smirks at the question, but she gets my meaning. "Yes Spencer, it's tomorrow. But, there are 24 hours in a day, and I plan to use as many of them as I can before I end this."

I let my head fall back down and fade off into the comforting darkness.

* * *

I can't believe how much fun I had turning his back into shredded wheat. The moans were intoxicating and the tears were addicting. I can see why my dad chose such a violent career. Nothing makes you feel more alive than holding someone else's existence in your hands.

So, Spencer is ready for this to be over. I did promise him that "tomorrow" would be the end. But I think there are a few more things that I can do before I put him out of his misery. Using all of my dad's tools has been fun, but now I think I will take this in a different direction. I can't let go of the thought of putting him through some more humiliation. I may be ending his life before the next 24 hours are over, but I want him to feel as worthless as possible before that happens.

Humming a tune as I walk to the bathroom, I scrounge around through the drawers looking for my next instrument of torment.

* * *

It's amazing how good even fast food can taste when you are faced with years of jail ahead of you. As I munch down my double cheese burger with no pickles I study the two agents across from me. The looks on their faces were hilarious. They are so annoyed waiting for me to speak, and I can feel the impatience oozing out of their brains. I guess it's just my sadistic side coming through, but I am really enjoying putting them through this torment.

"Alright, you have your food, give us our information!" Agent Hotchner asserts. "Who did you give Agent Reid over to?"

"Well, I don't know her name. She got my name from a friend of a friend, and called to ask me if I could do a job for her. All she said is that she wanted me to pick up this kid that crossed her family a few years back and bring him to her," I explain between bites.

Agent Hotchner turned, looked at the two way mirror and commanded someone, "Have Garcia start pulling up old cases to look for connections."

He turned back around and fired off three more questions. "How old is she? What does she look like? Where did you take him?"

I answered the first two questions the best I could, but decided to mess with them a bit on the third. "Well, the location was about three hours south of here. I remember a bunch of trees and it felt like I was out in the middle of nowhere," I said as I shove some fries into my mouth.

"That information is nowhere near specific enough to make our deal stick. You are going to have to give us more details than that," Agent Prentiss said.

"Mwph I nut rlly goof wif directions," I say with a smirk through my French fry loaded mouth.

"Swallow, and say that again," the angry Agent Hotchner said as he tore my food away from me. "You're not getting this back until you give us what we need."

I swallow the contents of my mouth and repeat, "I'm not really good with directions."

"So this was all just a waste of time? You're playing us?" shrilled Agent Prentiss.

"No, not entirely. I just need to look at my GPS and then I can give you the location."

The agents exchange an incredulous glance and hightail it out of the interrogation room, leaving my food out of reach.

"Hey! What about the rest of my meal," I yell out as the door closes behind them.

* * *

I feel so stupid! How could we not have checked the van for a GPS? We could have already saved Reid if we would have just looked hard enough. I climb into the driver's seat of the first company issue SUV I can find and barely wait for Morgan and JJ to hop in before I thrust it into reverse. Glancing at the dashboard clock I check the time. How is it already 11 P.M.? It took way too long to get the information out of Kiefer.

"Alright, we have the location from his GPS. Now, let's go get our genius back!"

As I peel out of the garage with Rossi and Prentiss following in the vehicle behind me, I hear Morgan's phone going off.

"Morgan," he answers.

I just hear a few grunts coming from him for a few minutes and then he signs off with an "I love you baby girl."

"That was Garcia, she ran a check on the address. She said that the house belongs to someone named Katie Montague. She did a bit of digging into Katie's background and found that her story didn't add up. Upon further searching and the opening up some classified files she found that Katie Montague used to be known as Lindsey Vaughn."

"Lindsey Vaughn? Wasn't that the girl who was held by some guys at a high school after her friend was murdered?"

"Exactly! Remember, her dad shot that kid Ryan in cold blood right in front of Reid and Lindsey? He got away with it too because him and his daughter were in the Witness Protection Program."

"So why would she be mad at Reid?"

"Well, Garcia said that her father recently committed suicide. Perhaps it was the trigger that started this whole thing."

"I still don't get what Reid has to do with all this," I said.

"Well, I guess there is only one way to find out…" Morgan trailed off as he stared out into the darkness.

I shook my head and pushed the gas pedal closer to the floor.

* * *

What is that infernal buzzing sound? It sounds like there is a nest of hornets orbiting around my head. I struggle to bring my left hand up to swat them away, but there is nothing there. I blink my eyes a few times and find my head facing the wall. I am in so much pain from the last round of torture that I can barely think. Unfortunately, the buzzing sound still hasn't gone away, and I steel myself up for looking around.

It takes all my strength but I finally get my head to turn away from the wall, and I take in the basement surrounding me. My blood still stains the floor over by the drain, and I can now see the loops that the ropes were attached to. Closer to my head, I can see a pair of familiar feet. I start to trail my eyes up her body, and examine what Katie is holding in her hand. Ah-ha, I have finally found the source of the buzzing, and it sends ice-cold chills through my body. In her hands she is holding an old fashioned electric razor that is currently pulsating with life and waiting to be used.

My eyes go wide, and I let a whimpered "No," escape my lips. Please God, don't let this happen! If she is trying to take away my dignity she sure picked the right method. I would rather eat and drink out of the dog dishes than let her cut my hair.

Upon hearing my weak protest Katie sits down on my lacerated back and holds my head against the concrete with her spare hand.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or make a profit off of this story.**

**Happy New Year! Enjoy!  
**

* * *

Katie took her sweet time shaving the hair off of my head. At first I tried to struggle, but I was just too exhausted from the previous round of torture. Anyways, she quite enjoyed sitting on my wounded back, making the experience as painful as possible. She would shift her body around as much as she could, guaranteeing each adjustment upset the scratches. She also made sure to pin down my hands with each of her knees, which was quite painful too. At times she would put all of her weight on her knees and it would feel like all the bones in my hands were cracking. Finally, to make the torture complete, she ensured with each swipe of the electric razor that the cast off hair fell like rain in front of my eyes. The whole time she hummed a tune that I didn't recognize like she was a normal hairstylist in a salon just doing her job. Finally, she ran out of hair to cut. She stood up, checked my bindings and left.

Sitting here in the dark I can't help contemplating how this type of psychological torture is supposed to work. Katie is trying to break me down and doubt myself. Is it working? If you think about it, it's really incredible how closely one associates their identity to something as superficial as hair, but nevertheless I am guilty of it. I can't believe that it's gone; she took it down to the skull. Morgan and I could be twins now, so to speak. Strangely enough, that thought makes me chuckle a little. "Hair grows," I chant to myself in a teary-eyed whisper. Maybe when this is all said and done I can try out a few new hairstyles. I am sure the girls would love to help me pick out something edgy and modern. The only problem is whether or not I will be alive when this situation finally comes to a head.

Katie didn't clean the hair up, I think she wants me to sit and wallow in it. I look at it as it surrounds me and sniffle at the loss. Suddenly, I shake my head and berate myself for being so stupid as to mourn something as trivial as hair. There are so many other things she could have done to me but she chose this. I can get over it! This will not break me! I need to focus on survival instead of feeling sorry for myself.

I sit up as best I can. Is the collar chain getting shorter? She must be restricting my movement to incite panic and cause feelings of helplessness. It's working, a little. I take a few deep breaths and readjust to accommodate the shorter length of chain. I end up flush against the wall, sitting in a pile of my own hair, observing my surroundings to help take my mind off of all the pain.

Nothing has changed much since I woke up last. The pool of blood by the drain is smaller but still present. I wonder how much I have lost since I've been here. On second thought, I don't want to think about that right now. The cardboard box is still sitting over in the corner with all of her useful goodies packaged up nicely, but other than that the cellar is fairly empty. Damn, nothing useful in reach to help me get out of here.

Suddenly I hear the pitter-patter of Katie's footsteps coming down the stairs. This has got to be it right? She's going to kill me now. She said that it would end today, and I really don't think my body can take another round of major blood loss. I see that she has something in her right hand. A shiver of fear runs down my spine as I realize that indeed the end has come.

* * *

I have decided to end it sooner rather than later for him. I was going to do a few more things to humiliate him, but he seemed too resigned during the last activity for anything else to be truly satisfying for me. Taking a break for a few minutes, I sit back on the couch and think back on my most recent activity.

It was fun at first when he started to struggle underneath me. I could feel the fear quiver throughout his body and the panic that was taking control. He started to flail his arms around and succeeded in hitting me, not hard, so I knew I needed to do something about his hands. It was a stroke of genius when I decided to use my knees to help pin down his hands. Regrettably, after he knew that he was completely helpless he lost his will to fight. He just laid there and let it happen. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoyed shaving his head and dropping the hair in front of his eyes, but at that point I knew that anything else I tried later would be met with the same submission

So, I at this point I need to figure out how I am going to end it. I feel I should stay true to my dad and use one more of his tools. With a huff, I push myself off the couch and wander into my dad's study to look at my choices. Most of the antiques were intended to maim someone not kill them. But, I am sure that I can adapt any of them to help me achieve my goal. In the end, I want to choose something that will allow me to be actively involved with his death. I want my actions to be responsible for his death. Ahhh…I see just the tool, a chain whip. This will allow me to inflict maximum pain and get my pent up aggression out at the same time. With a little smile on my lips, I pick up the whip and head downstairs.

* * *

We made it! I stopped and turned off the SUV before going around the last bend in the road. I wanted to make sure Lindsey didn't hear our arrival and kill Reid prematurely. We all got out of our respective SUVs and gathered in between them.

"Alright, we need to move in quickly and take her by surprise. We don't know if Reid is still alive, but we are running on the assumption that he is. The paramedics and police back-up are about 5 minutes out, but I don't want to wait. I'll go in the front with JJ. Morgan, you and Prentiss go around back. Rossi, I want you to sweep the perimeter and see if there are any other exits. If there is, cover it to make sure she doesn't have a way out. Questions?"

Everyone shook their heads no.

"Okay, one last thing. We don't know what shape we will find Reid in, so mentally prepare yourself for anything. Don't get distracted and show your concern for Reid until Lindsey is incapacitated. We don't want to give her a reason to cause him more pain," I explain. "Alright, let's move out!"

* * *

She has a strange whip-like device in her hand. I say whip-like because instead of leather flails these ones are made out of chains. She must be planning on bludgeoning me to death. Wonderful!

"Hello Spencer, I am happy to say that the time has come for you to pay the ultimate price," Katie flaunted.

I decide on a last ditch effort to get her to change her mind. "Katie, you still have time to let me go. You don't have to resort to this. Do you really think your father wanted you to live such a violent life? Didn't you go into witness protection in order to shield you from the cruelties of the world? If you go through with this you will be running for the rest of your life. My friends will not let you rest until you are behind bars."

"Shut up! You have no right to talk about my father! Killing you is just my way of making him proud. Besides, not matter how this ends I will either be running or in jail. I might as well do this on my own terms." She took a breath, "I hope you said your goodbyes."

I struggled to make myself as small as I could in that corner. As much as it hurt my back to scrape against the concrete wall I try to melt into it. I was stuck with no means to escape. "This is it," was all I could think. What did I do to earn such a violent end? No matter what Katie says I don't believe that I am the cause of this. How come I always suffer when someone has a psychotic break? I bring my legs up to my chest, bow my head down and cover it with my hands. I have last minute thoughts of my friends and my mother running through my head. I hope they know that I love them, and I pray that they can get over this.

I feel the first strike hitting my legs. It is more painful than I anticipated, and the chains succeeded in ripping off some of the skin. The next blow hits my knees and hands as they struggle to protect my head. I let out a cry in anguish and wonder how long until the final darkness consumes me.

Suddenly, I hear resounding crash come from the floor above us. I jerk my head up and look intently at Katie. She is frozen in place, and I can tell she is straining her ears to hear any follow-up noises.

"Down here! Help!" I yell out. It has to be the team, and even if it isn't it has to be someone that can help me. Suddenly I feel a searing pain rip through my mouth and skull. She attacked my head with the whip.

"I thought I told you to shut up," she whispered with vehemence. She brought up the whip one more time and hit me in my head. It was the last thing I saw before I passed out.

* * *

CRASH

I froze in my spot and struggled to listen for more sounds. That was clearly someone kicking in the door. How did they find us? I must have been that goon that I hired. I should have went after him to finish the job instead of letting him escape.

Okay, what to do now? I am running out of time and I need to kill this pipsqueak.

"Down here! Help!" I hear him yell out. I can see hope returning to his eyes and decide to beat it out of him. I bring the whip down two more times on his head and he passes out. I decide to continue whipping him because it's too late to get another weapon to protect myself from whoever just broke into my house. I'll make sure that when they find him he is nothing more than a bloody pulp.

I get in a few more hits before I hear, "Freeze FBI!"

I am facing away from the agents with my right hand raised up with the whip, intending to bring it down in a final lashing.

"Drop the weapon and turn around!"

"Yeah, right," is all I think as I bring down the chain whip for the final time.

* * *

I knew the noise from the door would be heard by Lindsey, but it was necessary nonetheless. We quickly make our way into the cottage and start to check each nook and cranny until we hear him.

"Down here! Help!"

Oh thank God! He's still alive!

I rush into the kitchen to see Morgan and Prentiss making their way in via the back door. I nod to what I hope is the basement door and they cover me as I open it. There is a set of rickety stairs leading down into the darkness. I can hear the sounds of metal clinking as it hits something. When I get to the bottom of the stairs it takes me a few seconds to sort out what my mind is seeing.

In the corner I see Reid curled into a little ball in the corner, but he doesn't look responsive. Lindsey has her back to us and her hand is raised high in the air with a vicious looking weapon in her grasp. I yell out for her to freeze, and then I tell her to drop the weapon and turn around. I watch her hesitate for a moment and then make the decision to bring down the strange whip one more time.

I'm not sure who took the shot, but Lindsey crumpled to the floor with the whip lying uselessly in front of her. Without a second glance I rush over to our genius in the corner. "Reid! Can you hear me?" I call out to him. He doesn't respond.


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry for the false alarm, same chapter, just fixing a continuity issue that tannerose5 pointed out! Thanks for the heads up!  
**

**Thank you to everyone that has been following this story. Here is the final chapter for "The Boss." As I look back over the story I can see that there are quite a few mistakes and I hope to one day edit them, nevertheless I am proud of my first piece of FanFiction. Thanks again for all of your support!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters...it's too bad really.  
**

* * *

"Reid? Reid? I need you to wake up," I urge the curled up figure of our team's youngest member. I see shallow movement in his chest letting me know that he is still breathing, but he was unresponsive any noise.

I cautiously stretch out my hand to try to gently shake his shoulder not wanting to cause him anymore harm. I notice that he is completely limp and he is not likely going to respond to my urgings. So I do my best to uncurl his body from the fetal position that he was currently in and try to take inventory of the damage that I can see.

His face is a mess and almost unrecognizable. There are so many bruises and cuts from that vicious whip that Lindsey was using. Surely Reid had a concussion, if not multiple ones. Wait a second…what happened to his hair? Where there should be a mop of scraggily brown hair was stubble, not a single strand intact. I cannot express how much fury was building up in my gut, but I need to carry on with my inspection.

As I look closer, trying not to focus on the hair loss, I see open wounds surrounding his head that were just now scabbing over. What could have caused that? I let my eyes drift down his body and I see a black metal collar around his neck that is attached to the wall. There is barely any length to the chain so I know that his movement was majorly restricted. We were going to have to find the key or get some bolt cutters in order to release him.

"Prentiss, start looking for a key or something to cut this collar off," I order her.

Continuing on with my inspection I find a bullet wound in his right shoulder that has long since stopped bleeding. This must be the result of Mr. Collins shooting his gun during the kidnapping. The wound looked a little puffy and definitely needed to be disinfected and properly cared for. Finally, I glance down and notice Reid's thumbs. They are mangled and smashed as though something heavy had fallen on them. There were deep gouges surrounding the base of each thumb and it looked like they were barely hanging on. Why aren't the paramedics down here yet?

"Come on Reid man…open your eyes," Morgan pleads.

At the sound of Morgan's voice I flinch a little. I was barely aware of the fact that the others were that close to me, my total focus being on Reid and his wellbeing. I glance around quickly to see what everyone is doing. Prentiss is searching Lindsey's body for the key and Rossi (when did he get down here?) was looking through a cardboard box. Morgan and JJ were right behind me looking at their fellow agent with an immeasurable amount of concern.

"JJ, what's the ETA on the paramedics?" I ask.

"They should be pulling up anytime now…Is he alive?" JJ asked back in a quivering voice.

"Yes, he is breathing for the moment. He does have numerous injuries and likely a concussion, but he is alive. That bitch totally mangled him though. Prentiss, any luck?"

I see the others flinch a little at my choice of words, but I didn't care at the moment. Sometimes you just need call 'em as you see 'em.

"No, I'm going to check upstairs to see if I can find anything there."

As Prentiss ran off I asked Rossi to go up and help her in the search.

"How's Lindsey?" I asked Morgan.

"She's dead Hotch. I couldn't let her hit him again so I took the shot. Can't say that I am too sorry about it either," Morgan explained.

I just nod my head and digest his words. Suddenly I hear a moan escape from Reid's lips. I shift back into position, put my hand on his shoulder and try talking to him again. "Reid? Reid! Wake up! You need to wake up!"

Nothing. Another moan was the only response I got.

All of a sudden I can hear feet scrambling down the stairway. It's Prentiss and she is carrying a key in her hand. She rushes to our corner and hands it over. Gently I tip Reid forward to have access to the locking mechanism on the back of the collar. It fits! I can hear the lock click open and I swiftly free Reid from this prison. Out of the corner of my eye I catch a little red. What is that?

"Morgan, come here and help me lean him forward," I urged him.

We tip the kids body forward and my blood runs cold. His back is a nightmare that will haunt me for the rest of my days. There is no surface left untouched and there are multiple scratches that run deep into the flesh. The gashes are still oozing blood and some of them have puss too. No wonder he was moaning, I had positioned him to lean against the wall!

Before I can register anything else someone is pulling me out of the way. It's Morgan; the paramedics have arrived and are trying to get access to Reid. I allow myself to be led away from our genius and watch in a daze as he is loaded onto the stretcher on his stomach.

"I'm riding with him," Morgan states and runs after the stretcher as they take Reid upstairs.

I slowly walk upstairs and join the remaining team members in the living room. Rossi is up there explaining what he found in the den down the hall. It seems that Lindsey had access to plenty of torture devises that are kept on display in the den. Rossi explained how he found a few of the devises with blood on them, and I knew they were the ones that were used on Reid.

"Make sure they are put into evidence," I instruct needlessly.

"What now Hotch?" JJ asked me.

"Now we go to the hospital, wait to see how much damage was done, and then begin to sort this out," I reply.

"Isn't that going to be difficult now that Lindsey is dead? What if Reid can't remember what happened?" she questioned me.

"I don't know. We'll figure it out."

* * *

Have you ever felt that warm fuzzy feeling right before you wake up to your alarm going off at 6:00 in the morning? That fuzziness is what surrounds me right now and it is purely blissful. I always hate waking up and leaving that warmth behind. The minute your feet hit the cold floor of your bathroom you know that you are in for a long day.

Luckily for me, I don't know how to wake up. Heck, I don't know if I am even asleep. All I can tell is that I am floating in eternal darkness, which I usually hate, but it doesn't seem to bother me right now. It's warm here, I feel safe, there is no pain, and it's quiet. What more could a person want?

"What's wrong with him?"

"When's he going to wake up?"

"Is the damage permanent?"

"What about his brain function?"

Who are those muffled voices? Who are they talking about? Okay, so one bad thing about this warm fuzzy place is that there isn't anyone here to answer my questions. My brain is telling me that I need to analyze this whole situation. That's one issue with a genius brain; it won't leave you alone until you utilize it.

Alright, let's first start with how I got here. The only other time I have ever been here was when I almost died back in Georgia. Am I dead? Dying? Wait…I remember now! It was Lindsey Vaughn and her vendetta against me that resulted in me being here. That's right! I remember hearing a noise upstairs and yelling out for help, and after that just pain until I woke up here.

"Hey kid, ya know we are all waiting here for you to wake up. You can come back anytime now. You've got Garcia and JJ really worried about you, and I have a lot of Jello waiting here for you to eat. There have been a lot of people who have come to see you too. You wouldn't believe it, but Strauss even made an appearance. So come on pretty boy, open those brown eyes."

That sounds like Morgan. I wonder how long I have been out. He sounds a little bit worried, but really, doesn't he know how comfortable it is here. I think I want to stick around just a little bit longer. Anyways, I don't really like Jello. That time in the hospital after the Anthrax scare, I just wanted something to eat and Jello was the first thing I saw.

Wait, do I hear someone sobbing? They can't possibly be crying over me. I am doing just fine and I am very happy at the moment. Is that Garcia? I feel a twinge of guilt at making her sad, but they should understand my reluctance to come back after all I've been through. This place is safe and impenetrable by people who want to harm me. Is it selfish to want some peace after almost being tortured to death?

Still, what if I lose my shot at going back because I was too busy enjoying this worry free atmosphere. Do I even have a choice as to when I get to wake up? Even if I want to wake up, how do I go about doing it? The darkness is never-ending and there is no light to guide my way. This place isn't looking that glamorous after all. I am just going to have to focus all my energy and push my mind out of here.

Here goes.

* * *

It's been two days since we found Reid in the basement of Lindsey's cabin. He was rushed to surgery as soon as the ambulance arrived at the hospital, and it took many hours to patch him up. The doctor says that physically he will heal just fine, but we need for him to wake up from this coma. Lindsey sure did a number on his head, well his whole body for that matter. The doctor was concerned about all the cranial bruising that he saw and couldn't tell us for sure whether or not there would be any brain damage.

Everyone has been in and out Reid's room. We have been taking turns sitting with him and talking to him. It reminds me of a confessional booth, where you sit down and reveal all your secrets to someone who is just there to listen. Only, we don't get any response back from him. There were a few times that he let out some moans and whimpers but he has yet to open his eyes. I wonder if he is dreaming or if he can hear any of us talking to him. I don't remember much from my hospital experience after I was stabbed by Foyet, except waking up in the hospital to Emily's face. We all want to make sure there is a friendly face around for when he wakes up.

I sit back in the comfortable rocking chair that the nurses so nicely supplied for all of us to use as we visit. I start to think about what got us here in the first place. We all know that our job is risky, but we embrace the risk in order to help the people involved. But, I am so sick of making all of these hospital visits and spending all these hours worrying over my surrogate family. I know that I cannot prevent everything bad from happening, but there has to be something I can do. I snort a little at the thought of trying to convince Struass to let me microchip the team to help keep better tabs on their locations. It sure would help the next time the kid gets kidnapped, because let's face it unsubs can't resist Reid.

I continue with this train of thought for a little while until I hear the beeping pattern of Reid's heart monitor change. I scoot my chair closer to his bed, brush my hand across his face as if to move the nonexistent hair out of his eyes, and grab his left hand being careful of his wrapped up thumb. I don't even notice that I am holding my breath waiting for a peak of those big brown eyes.

* * *

Why is it so bright? I haven't even opened my eyes yet, but I can tell there is some sun shining into the room. I manage to tweak my eyes open a little, but quickly close them. I take a deep breath and try again, this time opening my eyelids all the way.

It takes a few seconds to register what I am seeing. Sitting right in front of my face is Hotch oozing concern out of every pore. I continue to blink in order to adjust my eyes to the light. It's then that I realize that I am lying on my stomach. I am not a stomach sleeper normally and I hate the feeling. I let out a little moan as I try to push my body onto its side, which is difficult to do when you only have one hand available. I try to pull my hand out of Hotch's grip but find myself unsuccessful.

"Reid, just stay still. You're safe now. We found you. I am going to call the nurses to let them know that you woke up," Hotch explained after he gave me a sip of water to heal my parched throat.

As Hotch walked away I tried to use my newly free hand to push my body over onto its side. The second I put pressure down on my hand pain ripped through my body. There was pain coming from my hand, back, shoulder and head. It seemed that someone had all of a sudden turned on a switch to release unfathomable stinging throughout my body. I look down at my hand and realize that I had just put pressure on my mangled thumb, and then I started thinking about all the other sources of pain.

I must have let out a yelp or something when I tried to roll over because Hotch came rushing back to my bed side. "I told you to stay still! Your body is still in the healing stages and we don't want you to tear any of your stiches open," Hotch scolded.

"How bad?" It was the only thing I could manage to say in return.

I listened as he explained my health issues and how I had been in a coma for the last two days. The nurses came in at the end of his explanation and started to do their check-up on me. I saw Hotch wander off for a few seconds to make a phone call. I'm assuming that he is calling the team to let them know that I woke up. The nurses finish up their job and remind me to stay still and not to move off of my stomach. Err…how I hate having to lay like this; especially with visitors in the room it makes me feel like a small child having to look up at all the grown-ups.

After Hotch came back from his brief phone call he sat back down in that comfortable looking rocking chair. I look at him and ask, "Katie?"

"Katie? Who is that? Was there someone else down there with you?" Hotch responded sounding very confused.

It took me a few seconds to realize that the team wouldn't know that she changed her name to Katie. "No, there wasn't anyone else down there with me. I meant to say Lindsey. What happened to her?"

"Well Reid, when we got down to the basement we found her poised to bring down the whip on you. I yelled at her to stop and drop the weapon, but she refused. Right when she was going to hit you again Morgan shot her through the heart. She didn't make it out of the basement," he explained.

The only response I could manage was "Wow." Is it wrong that I feel a little relieved?

Unexpectedly we hear a squeal of delight coming from the hallway and the next thing I know my vision is being blocked by a woman in a bright pink dress, Garcia. The rest of the team finally showed up and there is a lot of swirling conversations going on all around me. Everyone is quick to welcome me back and they all try to give me some comfort. I even hear someone make a comment about my hair and all the possible styles that I can try out now. I am a bit embarrassed at all this attention and hate the fact that I can't even sit up properly to be on their level. Finally, everyone starts to settle down and give me some much needed space. I am starting to feel exhausted and look around at everyone with my droopy eyes.

"Oh wait kid, don't fall asleep on us yet. I just gotta ask you a question we have all been wondering these past few days. Why in the world did Lindsey Vaughn target kidnap you?" Morgan spurted out really quickly.

"Sorry guys, I am really tired and that's a long story," I reply as I close my eyes and prepare myself to shut out the world.

"Well when do we get to hear the answer?" Morgan queried.

"Tomorrow."

I can feel a small smile play upon my lips as I slip off to a peaceful slumber surrounded by my family.


End file.
